


Sanguine

by raven_aorla



Series: drinking (with) friends [1]
Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Banter, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical UST, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Innuendo, Queerplatonic Relationships, Try Guys Eat Sandwiches, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 15:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: After leaving Buzzfeed, Eugene is having trouble getting the medication that allowed him to live without regularly drinking small amounts of human blood as a supplement to a normal diet. The other Try Guys have volunteered to provide. There's a lot more jokes, affection, and sandwiches than expected.





	Sanguine

**Author's Note:**

> Vampire fanfics often turn consensual feeding into sexytimes, and the Try Guys turned fanfic sexytimes into sandwichtimes in that one video, so I took it to the logical(?) conclusion. 
> 
> No disrespect is meant to any of the real people whose public personas I am using as inspiration. This is a playful tribute.

When Zach mentions in an interview that leaving Buzzfeed had also meant losing health insurance, at least for now, a number of fans express concern about how he is getting the treatment he needs. It’s heartwarming.

Eugene, on the other hand, asks for the Try Guys to keep Eugene’s own invisible illness (of sorts) between themselves. He told Ariel because if Eugene had a baby he would want someone with this condition to disclose it if they were going to be hanging around his child. It was only fair. Ariel is close with Eugene by now in her own right, not just as Ned’s Wife, and she took it well, saying she trusts him as much as she ever did. Eugene feels okay with Zach telling Maggie that Eugene has something chronic, but not exactly what it is. Sweetheart that she is, she expresses support and doesn’t pry. It’s the same way with Becky. Otherwise, only Eugene’s healthcare professionals and his parents know. 

Not to downplay Zach’s situation, but there are generic versions of many of the things he takes, along with discount programs for the most direly needed. Eugene’s condition is much rarer than AS and is much less easy to talk about.

Sanguinesuriesosis (SES) generally gets one of three reactions: disbelief, fear, or fetishization. But from the Try Guys, all Eugene gets is love - and an offer so generous that he almost starts crying for the first time in at least a year. 

****

“How do you feel about being called a vampire rather than an SES sufferer? Like, when it’s just between us folks who are in the know.” Keith has arrived with sugar, sandwiches, and a smile. Eugene knows Keith can handle this. He wants to have a trial run before taking anything from Expectant Father Ned, and he’s afraid of eating Zach alive if he lets Zach contribute before Eugene’s gotten the hang of safe feeding. 

“Don’t go around calling other people with SES that, but I don’t mind if it’s you guys. It’s nice if we can be chill about it. Why do you think I dressed up as one for that calendar shoot?” Eugene speaks as pleasantly as possible given his pounding headache. Because he was too much of a coward to ask before yesterday, he’s gotten to the point where even with his living room curtains drawn, the sun hurts his eyes. Without the medication he can’t currently afford, he’s two or three days from not being able to digest normal food anymore without a period of horrible withdrawal, instead of his life subsisting mostly on food with blood as a supplement. He’s at four days maximum before he starts burning from daylight. Every muscle in his body seems to ache. He gestures at the coffee table. “You can put your stuff there. Then get on the recliner. Please.” 

On Eugene’s instructions, Keith brought food. In this case, sandwiches for both of them and orange juice and cookies for himself. He sets them down and plops into the recliner. “Don’t overthink this, okay? Don’t want you to be bankrupt or in agony.”

There are options beyond that, but almost all of them involve outing himself or at least being vulnerable with strangers. Or, like, dying. Eugene only mentions the darkly funny one. “I could also eat y’all and become a sexy superpowered Master of the Night and never look back. But I’d miss light. And being able to get drunk at all. I guess maybe I’d miss my friends too.” 

He has Initial Stage SES, where he can live as a human being, where he’s just a little better than everyone when it comes to agility, reflexes, charisma, and quick learning. The guy who’d infected him was at Transitional Stage, able to pass for human on a casual basis, still eating some food but severely addicted to blood. Also super strong, unfortunately. Those with End Stage are required by law to wear ankle monitors in some states, and are simply locked up in others. Eugene would rather die than reach that point.

(Wouldn’t it make far more sense for everyone with SES to get medication for free? Welcome to American healthcare!!!!!!!!!!)

Keith leans back in the cushy chair and pats his thighs with a goofy hopeful expression. “Once we’ve got 2nd Try LLC up and running and we’re not all broke, we can get you back into your normal routine. Meanwhile, come sit on my laaaaaaap….”

Eugene rolls his eyes with fond annoyance. “I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

“Okay, setting a timer on my phone.” They have work to do, plus Emma and Pesto won’t be content being confined to his bedroom for long. He doesn’t want them to see their daddy like this. “I’m supposed to stop when the timer goes off. If I don’t stop, stop me. Did you bring mace?”

“Eensy weensy macey wacey.” The tiny can of pepper spray Keith holds up is meant to be a self-defense purse accessory. It’ll do the job if Eugene loses control. Keith can handle him. “I haven’t had any caffeine or weed or anything else that was on the list. Come to my arms, my beamish boy. Oh frabjous day. Drink me.”

“Thanks for making this weird thing so weird that it’s a little less weird,” Eugene says sincerely, and straddles Keith’s lap, snorting despite himself when Keith makes an over-the-top pleased coo. He takes one deep breath. Another. The fangs come out. 

“Whoa, neat,” Keith murmurs, watching him. This means his head is twisted around, though, so Eugene firmly threads his fingers through Keith’s hair to tilt his neck just right. 

When Eugene bites down and starts drinking, Keith is clearly in pain for the first five seconds or so, body stiff and breathing tightly. He doesn’t tap out, though, and soon the anesthetic injected through the fangs gets into Keith’s system and he relaxes. Eugene stops worrying. His headache dissolves. There’s nothing but wet and salty and warm and _good_...

The alarm goes off, but Eugene doesn’t want to stop. This is so much more enjoyable than popping two pills a day. Then Keith slides a big hand under Eugene’s shirt and starts tickling him. It’s very difficult to drink while giggling, and Eugene is not far gone enough to hurt Keith to make him stop. 

“Shit, sorry, got carried away.” Eugene’s fangs retract, and he gives the wound a slow lick to promote healing and sits back. He feels a bit dizzy. 

“I wasn’t scared. Tickling was more fun than pepper spraying you,” Keith says cheerfully. He feels the puncture marks. “You promise this’ll be gone by the time Becky sees me at home tonight?”

“I’m about ninety percent sure. If not, tell her we dared Zach to stand on his tiptoes and try to give you a hickey, which he did cutely but incompetently. And we’ll plan better next time.” Eugene slides to the floor and sits cross-legged, handing Keith his juice and cookies and examining the sandwiches. He’s gone from days of barely any appetite to absolutely starving. Eating regular food immediately after taking a minimum of blood will help his body to continue to want a mostly-normal diet. In the end he selects the pastrami. 

They eat in silence for awhile. Unusually, Eugene find himself leaning back against Keith’s giraffe legs, and even more unusually, he doesn’t mind Keith petting his hair with his free hand.

“I should let my dogs out. Thanks, man,” he says quietly after finishing the last crumbs. Keith squeezes his shoulder.

****

Two weeks later, Eugene shows up at Ned’s home with sandwiches. It’s the same assortment as he and Keith had, with one extra for Ariel if she wants. Ritual is reassuring.

Ariel answers the door, belly even more prominent than the last time he saw her. “Hey Eugene, come in. Is it okay if I watch? I understand if you feel self-conscious, it’s just Keith mentioned that you were tense about safety even though you didn’t really need to be, and I thought if you had a spotter…”

“That’s a great idea,” Eugene says. She beams. Ariel had expressed a desire to help earlier, but she’s already providing someone far more needy than Eugene with nourishment. The baby has no other options, after all.

“I apologize for Ned,” Ariel says, leading Eugene inside.

“Apology not accepted,” Eugene jokes when he sees what she’s apologizing for. 

Ned is being extra. So extra. As in, he is lying on the couch with the back cushions removed, facedown, wearing only a pair of fuzzy track pants that say JUICY on the ass. It reminds Eugene of the body sushi video they did. 

“I bet I’m tastier than Keith,” Ned sing-songs, turning his head and winking at him. 

“You’re one competitive dorkface,” Eugene replies, looking as unimpressed as possible. 

“A delicious competitive dorkface!”

Eugene smirks, nervousness forgotten. “Eh, maybe. Lie on your back.”

Ned doesn’t make any noise while Eugene’s bent over him, kneeling on the floor and holding Ned partly upright. Afterwards, though, he looks shell-shocked, with big dazed eyes.

“Are you okay?” Eugene asks, giving the wound an extra lick.

Ariel hands Ned a box of apple juice with the straw already inserted. She looks mildly overcome, like she should be theatrically fanning herself, but still keeping it together. “I think that was...uh...a little sexy for him. He’s rebooting.”

“Oh.” The Fulmers stare at Eugene. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sandwiches?”

****

“If you ask me one more time if I’m sure I want to do this, Eugene, I am going to punch you in the dick,” Zach says slowly when he shuffles into their office-in-progress. It’ll just be the four of them here for the next few hours, and Eugene wants _two_ spotters this time. Ideally Eugene wouldn’t need to use Zach like this at all, but only having two donors would be unsustainable and outing himself to even more people is horrifying.

“He only looks like a child, you know, he’s actually a grownup who can consent,” Ned teases. Zach pokes him in the ribs. 

“I can take my antidepressants and pain meds and other meds and my whatever other everything meds right after," Zach says, rubbing his face as if to wake himself up. He looks like he hasn’t slept all night. Eugene hasn’t slept in three nights, but he’s better at looking like he’s fine than Zach is. “The hard part was getting it past Maggie. She’s vigilant about me forgetting my pills.”

“It’s been at least ten days since your last injection, right?” Keith asks. “We don’t want Eugene’s bones to dissolve.”

“That’s not how it works,” Zach smiles faintly through the brain fog and joins Eugene on the couch. 

“Tell me if something hurts. Well, something new, because I guess everything hurts right now? Sorry.” Because Zach is less sturdy than the others and especially loves cuddling, Eugene arranges him sideways on his lap and holds him gently throughout.

When Eugene’s done, Zach says in wonder, “It doesn’t hurt.”

Keith nudges food and drink at him. “I told you, it’s only uncomfortable at the beginning.”

“No, I mean, nothing hurts right now! Nothing!” Zach sounds so excited by this that Eugene’s heart twinges. “It’s got to be that anesthetic of yours. But you can’t drink from me too often. Would it still work if we just made out? If I told my girlfriend it was for medicinal purposes…”

“That’s not how it works,” Eugene says, hugging him tightly. His walls are temporarily down. Right now the gesture comes naturally, full of gratitude and affection with a hint of apology, tinged with equal friendship and need. 

“At least I got some relief.” 

"I'm really glad," Eugene says, and lets go.

Zach remains on the couch to eat a cookie, sip extra-sweetened tea, and take all his meds. Then he flops backwards with his head on Eugene's closed thighs. “Still no pain. I wanna sub.”

“I’m sure you do,” Eugene replies dryly, and stuffs part of his own sandwich in Zach's open mouth. “Open wider. You can take it.”

Keith waggles his eyebrows. “Give him six inches.”

“Does this mean Eugene has penetrated all of us?” Ned muses with a barely suppressed grin.

“Nice to know I still might not be that weird by Try Guy standards,” Eugene says before taking another bite, feeling warm inside from more than just a meal.


End file.
